


Wait for Me to Come Home

by chasingafterstarlight



Category: Victorious, Victorious RPF
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Cheating, RPF, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 11:25:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4433696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chasingafterstarlight/pseuds/chasingafterstarlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Avan Jogia has to make a difficult choice, and Liz realizes how in love she truly is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wait for Me to Come Home

**Author's Note:**

> This is very bad but I hope you enjoy anyway, pls no hate I don't condone cheating etc etc I don't think this is really how it's gonna go and I don't own Liz or Avan, all a product of my imagination. If you enjoy then pls leave kudos or a comment thank u

The day the text shows up in her inbox is the day she realizes she’d been wrong.

Hey Liz. So Zoey and I wanted to let you know that we’re together now . 

Before she’d been content with the way things were. Casual flirting. Sometimes she’d catch him staring off in her direction, and she’d smile back, and he’d smile too, and she thought he knew, so she never did anything. She figured what was meant to happen would happen. She figured one day he’d casually ask her out, and she’d smile and accept, and that’s the way things would go. But he didn’t.

And now the situation is completely different.

She almost thinks about texting him. Her fingers almost find the keys, almost ask him how he could do this, almost ask him if he’d even thought about her feelings at all – even known about her feelings at all – but she doesn’t. Instead, she fires back, Happy for you, Jogia, and decides not to think for the rest of the night. Especially not about how much it hurts.

.

And so she does nothing. She pretends to be happy for him. She finds another guy, someone different than Avan, with a different sense of humor, but it never really feels quite so right. After a time, she breaks up with him, and she feels this sort of emptiness inside. That is, until Avan texts her. 

Hey can I ask you something?

Frowning, she types back, Sure, yeah, what’s up?

I don’t know. Ive been thinking a lot lately and well Liz did you ever have feelings for me? 

She hesitates. Her fingers hover above the keyboard. She knows the consequences, and it’s absolutely the wrong thing to do, and everything is telling her no, but then there’s her heart. It’s saying a vehement yes. I still kind of do.

Oh.

Oh? She questions. It feels almost like a rejection. I’m sorry. Shouldn’t have said anything. I know you’re in a relationship.

Im sorry for asking. But, you don’t have to be sorry for how you feel.

The sickening feeling in her stomach tells her the opposite. No, it’s okay. Text me when you’re in town yeah? We’ll meet up.

Of course.

.

The next time she sees him she feels like her heart is going to explode.

He looks even better than before, and she has to remind herself that he’s taken, that she has to protect herself from being hurt again. He grins that lopsided grin at her. “Hey, Gillies.”

“Thanks for the excessive promo of my show,” she gripes. “Literally had to spend hours brainstorming on how I could begin to catch up with you. But seriously, Tut was fantastic. Probably the best 3 nights I’ve spent this summer.”

Laughing, he replies, “Your show was even better. Looking at your face is never a waste of time.”

She tries to keep the blush off of her face from the (unintended?) flirting. “Whatever you say. You in the mood for some good food?”

“Always,” he replies with a grin.

They walk down the street together, close so that their arms sometimes (unintentionally?) brush and she wonders what it would be like to be with him like this. She wonders if he ever thinks of her the same way. In times like this it might be nice to read minds, to know what exactly he thinks of her, to know that at some point in time her feelings have been returned.

But she says nothing. Instead, while they eat, she glances up at him and realizes that he’s looking at her, too, and she continues to wonder.

.

Their friendship starts growing again, back almost to Victorious levels. They text nearly every day. Most of the time, it’s about somewhat mundane stuff – who exactly woke up one day and decided it would be a good idea to create sport that revolves around grown men tackling each other? will never understand American football – but sometimes it gets deeper, about places they’d like to live and things they’d like to do.

Somewhere in that time frame one of Ariana’s friends throws a party and for some godforsaken reason decides it’s a good idea to invite Liz. Liz knows it’s not a good idea, but Ariana’s always been quite good at coercing her into doing things she’s not completely sold on and so she ends up at the party.

At first, the party’s not too bad. She clings to Ariana’s side as the star makes the rounds, offers a few words in Ariana’s overwhelmingly superficial conversations, pretends to be having a good time like everyone else. She only has a few drinks here and there. Somehow, though, over time, it begins to build up.

“I’m not feeling so-o good-d,” she slurs to Ariana.

Ariana sighs. “Come on, Liz. You shouldn’t have had that many drinks.”

Liz giggles. “They tasted fruity. They can’t have ha-a-ad thaaaat much alcohoool.”

“God, you’d think you’d never been to a party before.” With another shake of her head, she continues, “Well, I technically can’t leave now, but I guess I can get you a cab home, all right? Stay here.”

Liz nods and falls back into the couch, feeling completely out of it until her friend returns. Then Ariana hauls her downstairs and into the cab. “Text me when you’re home,” she makes her promise. But as soon as Ariana leaves, Liz turns to the driver and gives him another address, a slightly mischievous smile on her face.

Once she gets to the house and rings the doorbell, Avan comes out, dressed in a bathrobe and looking completely and utterly confused. “Liz? Not to be rude or anything, but what the hell are you doing here this late?”

“I’m a-a-alone,” she chokes out, hoping he won’t turn her away. In her drunk mind she had not even once considered that he might be angry with her for showing up. “I don’t feel good.”

“You went to the party with Ariana, didn’t you?” he asks, pinching the bridge of his nose and frustration. “All right, come inside. You don’t have to be alone.”

He sits her down on the couch, drapes a blanket over her, and hands her a mug of coffee. As she drinks and he sits there with her, offering a comforting word every now and again, she slowly begins to sober up and return to her normal self. As she looks over at him, she sleepily says, “I’m sorry for messing up your night.” 

“Messing up my night?” He chuckles. “No, not at all. I’d do a lot of things for you. This is fairly low on the difficulty list.” Pressing a kiss to the top of her head, he whispers, “Get some rest. I’ll talk to you in the morning when you’re more yourself. I think I’ll enjoy that you a bit more.”

His words follow her into her dreams.

.

She wakes up and is startled by the unfamiliarity of her surroundings. Leaping off of the couch she’d dozed off on, she runs out of the room and runs smack dab into the chest of one Avan Jogia. He grins teasingly. “Feeling better today, are we?”

“I’ve got a massive headache, so not really, but I guess my main question right now would be why the hell I woke up on your couch?” she questions, staring at him with eyes that are equal parts confused and angry.

“Your anger isn’t appreciated,” he replies, looking at her in a hurt manner. “You were drunk last night. Went to a party with Ariana, I guess. But anyway, you came here and you looked so beat up I couldn’t turn you away. It wouldn’t be right.”

“Oh,” is her feeble answer. She feels ashamed all of a sudden, and slowly begins backing towards the door. “I’m sorry. I won’t bother you again.”

“It wasn’t a bother,” he tells her, staring at her with his deep brown puppy dog eyes. “I’m always here for you. You know that, Gillies. You have to.”

“I know,” she says. “Thank you for your help. Seriously. But I’ve got to go now.”

As she heads back to her house, the memories come pouring back. The most poignant memory of all is the feeling of his lips on her forehead.

.  
Thanks again for not kicking me out.

I could never. Besides it might be nice to have you wake up in my house more often. 

Taken, Liz reminds herself. He’s taken. So very taken. But so very tempting.

.  
At first, he never really says anything all that obvious. Some of his texts have disguised innuendo. Some of his compliments seem a little too heavy – not only via text and in person, but also on Twitter, where some of their fans seem a little too suspicious – i s2g elavan is real omg crying in elavan bc of target acknowledgment!! It comes to a point where even she gets a little suspicious, and then it comes out of nowhere.

They’re sitting at a little booth in one of their favorite diners, chatting over piles of gluten-free food, when their conversation gets a little deeper. “I try not to be dramatic about it, I guess,” she says, stabbing at a carrot with her fork, “but I just wonder sometimes if someone will ever truly love me. Like Beck loves Jade. God, it sounds so stupid, I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Avan mumbles, so softly she can barely hear him.

“What?” she responds, glancing back up at him.

“I said you don’t have to worry about that,” he says. She meets his eyes, and there’s a battle taking place there. So much turmoil is present in his brown orbs it’s almost tangible. With all the strength he seems to possess, he chokes out, “I already love you.”

She jerks back from the table as if she’s been stung, nearly tipping over her chair. “No,” she says. “You can’t say stuff like that. You’re in a relationship – you – “

“I thought I’d made it obvious,” he mumbles, glancing down at the floor. “I’m sorry. Is it cheating, though? I can’t help how I feel. Neither can you.”

“Then why are you still with her?” she demands, angry and frustrated and sad, overwhelmingly sad. She can’t say her name. Not after what he’s just admitted. Not while she feels so guilty about it. It’s easier this way.

“I don’t know,” he says, a frown prominent on his face. “I just… feel so bad. I can’t leave her. She loves me. I can’t hurt her like that.”

“But you’re fine hurting me,” she replies with a scowl.

“I didn’t say that.” He stares at her, eyes filled with pain. “You know this is hard for me.”

“I know.” For a second, she softens. She sees the expression on his face. She sees how much pain he’s going through. And she sympathizes, she really does. But at the same time, she knows this isn’t right. So she says, “Looks like you’ve got a choice to make then.”

“You’re right,” he says. And they eat in relative silence for a few minutes before he speaks up and says, “You have no idea how badly I want to choose you right now.”

I want the same thing, she thinks, but she says nothing.

.

She waits, and she discovers that waiting is hard. Sometimes she feels like a damsel in distress. That bothers her more than anything. Control has always been important to her, and in this situation she’s fairly certain she has none. All she can do is wait and hope that who she is is good enough for who he is.

Days pass. One day, while scrolling through Twitter, she notices one of her fans freaking out about something. Curiously, she sees that her fan is talking about Avan unfollowing Zoey (and vice versa). She does some basic investigating and finds that her fans are correct. She fires off a quick text.

What’s up? Fans are freaking out. 

Come outside.

Sounds like a serial killer text. I think I’ll pass.

No, seriously.

He’s on her doorstep, as she’d expected, and he’s looking at her with those eyes that make her feel like she’s the only one. She raises an eyebrow. “So what?”

“So I broke up with her,” he says with a shrug. “So I couldn’t do it anymore. So I couldn’t keep denying to myself what we both knew all along.”

“What am I then?” she questions, staring at him with hurt in her eyes. “Some kind of leftover second choice?”

“No,” he replies. “My first choice, because the first time I didn’t even know there was a choice. I want to be with you, all right? I’ve always known it. I love you. I am in love with you, Gillies, and to hell with anyone who disagrees.”

She laughs at his sudden display of emotion, and leans into kiss him. He’s always been a passionate guy, she knows, but she’s surprised by the way he kisses, the way he wraps his arms around her, the way he pulls her close like he never wants to let go. 

And right now, she thinks, maybe she’d been right after all.


End file.
